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<title>your heart is open (i see what's inside) by Ephemeral_Joy</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518588">your heart is open (i see what's inside)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy'>Ephemeral_Joy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Julie and The Phantoms (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Eyes, F/M, Stolen Moments</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:08:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28518588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke and Julie share a moment of quietude.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Julie Molina/Luke Patterson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>195</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>your heart is open (i see what's inside)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's 5 am. Couldn't sleep as usual. This came out of it.</p><p>edited | title: savior // catie turner<br/>tumblr: @lydias--stiles</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For minutes now, Julie has been staring at the wall of the studio with increasing agitation. Luke and her have been working on this amazing song, until they stumped at the bridge and fell silent, both trying to muster a decent idea. Not even an idea! Inspiration was enough! Except nothing came, hence her frustration. It was unlike them to come up short and it kind of scared her. They drew from the same pain, but that pain has... it has been fading. It'd be a lie if she denied it. Sometimes, she'd be so in the moment and euphorically happy that she forgot her mom was dead. She knew she was dead, obviously, but she wasn't thinking about the fact that she was dead. That dull throb at the back of her head had begun to wane. Her father would say she was just finally letting the grief go, but she knew it was because of the band.</p><p>(Because of the boy on the couch in particular.)</p><p>If they hadn't popped out of their CD by some weird karmic magic, then she would still be chased down the halls by Flynn to try again.</p><p>(And again and again and again, until that <em>again</em> came from a guy in a beanie and a ridiculous smile and it somehow made something click. Whatever. She knew she had a crush. She wouldn't even deny it.)</p><p>Julie let out a harrumph, peering at the wall as if it had information she needed. Honestly, if her mom sent out signs like dahlias to get her on the right path, messages popping from the wall weren't too far-fetched of an idea!</p><p>Just as she was about to burn it with her stare, Luke went to sit in front of her. Startled, she leaned back. He didn't say anything, just sat down cross-legged and placed his head on his hand. And then he looked at her.</p><p>'What're you-?'</p><p>He shrugged and smiled. Oh. Realising it was just to tease her (or help her? sometimes she wasn't entirely sure where she stood with Luke), she decided to go along. She mirrored his position and pointedly met his gaze.</p><p>A smile quirked on his lips. Suddenly, he crossed his eyes and Julie snorted, brows furrowing because: <em>Gah! Why did he make it so easy for her to laugh?!</em> She gave him a look and he relented, though the smile stayed. She tried to keep a straight face, but it was hard. Because of his smile (that small one, the one where he wasn't quite sure how to react to something she said, though they now solely focused on her face and it was unnerving and enthralling all the same) and because of the simple fact that looking at someone was pretty intense. Really looking. Seeing them and accepting that this might take some time. Her hands fidgeted, wanting to fiddle a curl or touch her face or just hide, but she couldn't. It meant he'd win. So she didn't.</p><p>Her face finally relaxed, fingers slackening and eyes resting on his. He seemed to feel her shift in energy, easily falling beside her in that acceptance. A sigh left him.</p><p>And then they looked.</p><p>His eyes were green. Not bright green or dark green. Like sea glass, clear and intent and wholly Luke. But they were also melancholic, or at least right now, in a way she couldn't quite describe. Or maybe he has always been melancholic and distracted her with a grin. How it distracted her that his cheeks had that perpetual shadow from almost but not quite facial hair, how he hummed in an aimless yet intentional way, or when he tried impressing her with a riff. A lot distracted her. Until now, when his eyes were open and earnest and it almost felt perverse with how much she saw. She saw melancholia and apprehension and trust and intrigue and wisdom. Or maybe they were just sea glass green.</p><p>She felt herself swallow down emotion, her lips trembling. This time not from a laugh, but because they were <em>here.</em> That Luke and her could have this private moment of complete quietude and togetherness and that odd feeling of string kept taut between them, that kept them looking. She couldn't describe it. It felt like waves crashing against the rocks, or like walking in the dark for years and suddenly seeing a shimmering, flickering candle at the end of the tunnel. And there he was. And he was letting her come closer. And here she was, doing the same.</p><p>Her eyes were blurring, tensing to keep the tears from spilling but then letting it happen anyway. He has seen everything of her by now, a tear or two didn't matter anymore. His brows raised a little, only for him to tear up seconds later. Like eb and flow, one smiled the other followed. She cried and he'd do it with her. It was psychological, probably. She knew that. Still: it meant a lot.</p><p>They watched as they cried, regarded the way his cheeks became redder from allowing feeling to overwhelm and without guilt. His smile quivered, fingers tightening around his knee. Normally, she'd let the tug to comfort, care,<em> nurture,</em> to take her in his direction, but she suppressed it. This felt important. <em>Look,</em> they told one another, <em>I'm crying and there's nothing you can do about it.</em> It felt oddly liberating; baring herself in the most intimate way possible and not expecting anything. No pity or help. She has gotten so much "help". Luke didn't need to. He just had to look at her.</p><p>She didn't know how long they sat there, if it was hours or minutes or a mere nanosecond in this goddamn universe that made sense to no one. It didn't matter. A long time, she presumed. She has forgotten where her thoughts were before, what her face looked like, why he was even sitting in front of her. But it felt right. The tears have begun to dry cold on her cheeks.</p><p>Suddenly, the taut string began to loosen (or pull, who was to say) and Luke crawled over to her. He came closer, and they kept their gaze, until he was so close his eyes became one blob and then he was hugging her.</p><p>(It didn't often happen. Touching, that is. Not because he wasn't corporeal to her, but because both knew that when they touched, it wasn't a friendly hug like with Alex and Reg. It was more. It hurt to think that he wasn't actually there. He was literally nothing to the entire universe but was the moon and the stars and the rumblings of the earth to her. He was Luke. And that hurt.)</p><p>Her fingers instantly grabbed onto him, digging into his hoodie as they untangled themselves out of the cross-legged position to properly hug. It didn't matter if it looked awkward holding onto each other on the floor like that. She revelled in the sensation of pressing her nose in his neck and feeling his arms around her and being encased in everything that made him himself. That faint smell of 90s deodorant; something else, only describable as boy. The way his heart, steady and like a song, thudded against hers. He was real, he was real, he was real. How he didn't let go, only held her tighter (because he never thought she was fragile) as if they could weave and blend together. Sea glass green and chocolate brown, two colours swirling into one gem.</p><p>He was warm and real and smiling against her neck and the pads of his thumb and index fingers rubbed a curl, as if to remember the texture. As if she was the one to disappear in the end.</p><p>(He wouldn't either; not voluntarily anyway. The way his hands had brushed against her cheekbones a few weeks ago kind of said everything.)</p><p>They pulled apart, barely, and weakly smiled at each other. Amused, tired, resigned. "C'est la vie," her mom used to say late at night sometimes. How she spoke French, Julie never found out, but their smile reminded her of it.</p><p>A small grin bloomed on her face. 'Did you know your eyes are sea glass green?'</p><p>Softly, his hand trailed across her face, taking the wetness away with his nails and consequently making her smile. He matched her expression.</p><p>'They are?'</p><p>It was more than that. He looked at her like <em>she</em> was the candle at the end of the tunnel, that <em>her</em> eyes were the ones flickering with passion and love. Maybe she's been straining herself to find something (a hint, a confirmation, a sign, karmic energy), that she forgot to simply look at him the way he wanted to be regarded. Like this. Like now.</p><p>Julie nodded, placing her hand over his. 'Yeah.'</p><p>After, he pulled her back into a hug, gentler this time, like breathing has become easier now. She didn't know how long this hug lasted either, but he eventually started talking about the song. And then she replied that she had ideas again (about candles and gemstones and a string that looped around people's souls), and then it was back to normal. They sat on the rug with their songbooks splayed out and wrote and bounced lyrics back and forth. It was like it always was, but different. Because now, when she met his gaze, she found a new secret shared. A new memory belonging to Luke and her and no one else.</p><p>(Later that night, after successfully finishing the song and promising one another to work on it with the boys tomorrow, she sketched in her diary. It wasn't intentional, but the scratch of pencil shaped itself into hazelnut shaped eyes and a sharp face and quirked lips. The look he gave her wasn't able to be captured though. Not on paper or in a bottle. It was only meant to be seen by her - in the moment and nowhere else. A warm gaze solely for her. (She supposed that meant she had a look uniquely for him too… she liked that.))</p><p>It was easier to accept she was in love with Luke after that.</p>
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